And a Very Dursley Christmas to You Too
by Coral in the moon
Summary: Everyone's all grown up now, so it's only right that Harry and his family pay a Christmas Eve visit to Dudley Dursley and his family. It'll be fun. No, really.


**A/N: Little bit non-compliant with some of JKR's post-DH remarks, but technically those aren't canon, so.**

* * *

"Dad," whispered Lily, tugging on her father's hand. "Dad, why do we have to go visit them every Christmas Eve?"

"Yeah, Henry's fat and boring," said James.

"James Potter, what have I told you?" Harry said sternly.

"The boring is fair game, but don't complain about the fat," recited his son. "But Dad-"

"Harry Potter, what _have_ you been telling him?" hissed Ginny, nipping her husband's arm. Harry winced and rubbed the spot as Lily giggled.

"Al, press the doorbell," said Harry.

"Can I not?" asked Albus. "Dad, I don't want to see them, I don't want to know how many types of drills there are in the whole wide world…"

"Shush, Al," said Ginny. "I'm sure Henry and Susan will play with you. James, please do it. It's beginning to snow and your sister's only just recovered from the flu."

Glumly, James raised a hand and thumped the doorbell. Even huddled outside on the doorstep, the Potters could hear the raucous clanging.

"Not that hard."

"Sorry, Dad."

"Oh, no, wait!" exclaimed Ginny. "James, turn out your pockets right now."

"What? Mum!"

"I'm waiting," said Ginny inexorably.

James glanced pleadingly at his father, but Harry only shrugged, grinning, then quickly forced a frown on his face as Ginny narrowed her eyes at him. Reluctantly, James emptied his pockets and displayed their contents for his mother to see.

"I knew it," said Ginny furiously, snatching various sweets off James's none too clean hand. "Why you just _had_ to tell them how Fred and George gave Dudley a Ton-Tongue Toffee the day before we visit them, I'll never know, Harry."

"The topic just came up," protested Harry. "It's not like I meant to give him ideas."

"What exactly did you mean, then – oh, hello!"

The door swung open. A broad man, who had the look of someone whose muscles were steadily turning to fat, and a plump, brown-haired woman stood there, both wearing awkward, slightly-forced smiles.

"Hey there, Dudley," said Harry, moving forward and shaking hands with his cousin. "Emily, good to see you."

"Merry Christmas!" said Emily as she shook hands with Harry and gave Ginny a hug. "Well, not merry Christmas, exactly, because it isn't Christmas yet, but still…merry Christmas Eve, then! Come in, come in. Don't stand out there in the cold!"

Ginny shepherded the children in, helping them pull off their coats and brushing the snow off Lily's head. Lily clung tightly to her mother's hand as Emily patted her on the shoulder, while Albus and James shook hands with Dudley, surreptitiously massaging their hands after extricating them.

"Cold night," said Harry, running a hand through his hair to shake the snow off and making his hair even messier than ever, a habit that Ginny deplored.

"Yeah," said Dudley. He coughed. "Glad you could come by."

"Thanks for inviting us," said Harry, then noticed that the fallen snow was creating a soaking wet patch on the Dursleys' new carpet. "Oh, no. Sorry, Dudley. I can fix that…" he saw his cousin wince, "…unless you'd rather not?"

"Never mind about it," said Dudley, a bit too heartily. "Come on in. Henry and Susan are in the living room, watching the telly."

"Oh, how lovely," mumbled James to Albus.

Ginny, Lily and Emily were already at the end of the hall, entering the living room. Dudley gestured to them. "Shall we?"

"Sure," said Harry. "Just give me a moment. You go ahead first."

Dudley looked perplexed, but said, "All right," and followed the women into the living room. James and Albus made to trail behind him, but Harry caught them both by their collars.

"All right, hand them over." Harry's voice was uncompromising.

His two sons' reactions were completely characteristic of them, he thought, as Albus flushed guiltily and glanced at his brother, while James gazed at him, a picture of wide-eyed innocence.

"Dad, what are you talking about?" enquired James.

"I saw that look you gave Albus. You considered the possibility that your mother would confiscate your ammunition, didn't you?"

James tried to wriggle out of his father's grasp, but Harry held on firmly.

"Aw, come on, Dad! It'll be the only interesting thing that'll ever happen here. Probably even brighten up Henry's and Susan's life too!"

"It takes a lot for your Uncle Dudley to invite us here in the first place, considering that he prefers that his children not know about the wizarding world. _I _am going to respect his wishes, and _you_ are going to respect mine. Now are you going to give them up, or am I going to have to turn Al upside down and shake him?"

"Dad, you wouldn't really, would you?" said Albus anxiously.

"Try me," said Harry, raising his eyebrows.

"All right, all right!" said Albus, hurriedly extracting more brightly-coloured sweets from the pockets of his jeans. "I didn't really want to, anyway."

"Coward," muttered James.

"It's all your fault," muttered Albus right back at him.

"Gryffindor courage is not defined as suicidal recklessness, my son, and trying to imitate it does not guarantee that you'll be Sorted into Gryffindor," said Harry dryly. "Also, your proposed plan of action is extremely insensitive and borders on being nasty. I don't tolerate bullying, am I understood?"

"Yeah, yeah."

"Yeah who?"

"Yes, Dad," said James rather sulkily.

"In with you," said Harry, releasing them. Albus went along happily enough, but James vented his feelings by scuffing his feet on the carpet. Harry sighed and caught him by the ear.

"James?"

"Yeah – yes, Dad?"

"Are you going to behave yourself?"

"Okay, okay! I'd just much rather go to the Burrow, it's way more fun and Uncle George will be there…"

"We're going there tomorrow, and you know it. Now go on."

As they entered the room, Harry ruffled James's hair and bent to whisper in his ear, "Pretty good plan, though."

James threw him a glowing look. "It was, wasn't it? That's called di-ver-sion-ary tactics," he said proudly, pronouncing the long word carefully.

"Where did you learn that word from?" asked Harry, amused.

"Mum was telling us about when she was with the Holyhead Harpies."

Harry bit back a laugh. _Serves Ginny right_, he thought before guiltily suppressing the thought.

Ginny looked up as he followed the boys in, her eyebrows going up. Grinning, Harry shook his head. _I'll tell you later,_ he mouthed. Aloud, he said, "Hi there, Henry, Susan."

"Hello, Uncle Harry," chorused the two children on the sofa, their eyes barely moving from the television screen. Albus shot Ginny an accusing look and Ginny sighed.

"Switch off the television, Henry," said Dudley.

"Huh?"

"You heard me, switch it off."

"But, Dad-!"

"Aw, Mum, aren't you going to do anything?"

"Children," said Emily anxiously, "children, listen to your father."

"Now, Henry," said Dudley firmly.

Clearly sulking, Henry flipped the television off.

"Go play with your cousins, dears," said Emily.

Neither the Potter children nor the Dursley children looked particularly enthusiastic about the suggestion.

"Let's go over there, then," said Henry somewhat ungraciously, pointing to a space behind the Christmas tree that was liberally sprinkled with toys.

"Yeah, okay," said James, equally disgruntled. Harry frowned at him, and he immediately led the way to the play area. A silence ensued between the adults.

"So," said Harry, to fill in the blank spaces in the conversation they weren't having. He moved to sit next to Ginny on the sofa. "What've you been doing lately, Big D?"

Dudley began rambling about how the drill company he had inherited from his father was expanding, undoubtedly thankful for Harry's tact in bringing up a topic on which something could be said. Emily smiled and added a remark here and there while Harry tried to look as though he was listening.

On Harry's other side, Ginny's smile was slowly becoming more and more glazed.

"That's – that's really interesting, Dudley," said Harry, as Dudley paused for breath.

To his credit, Dudley laughed. "No, it isn't," he said rather ruefully. "But thanks for pretending."

"Anytime," said Harry, grinning.

"How's life on your end?" asked Emily.

"Not bad," said Harry.

Emily waited expectantly.

Harry cleared his throat. "Um, it's good."

Both Dudley and Emily now wore the "And…?" expression.

Ginny laughed. "Harry's never been very good at talking about himself," she said. "He has this natural tendency to say as little as he can about his personal life. I blame Rita Skeeter."

"Who is she?" asked Emily.

"A reporter," said Ginny, rolling her eyes. "You know how that goes. She's a complete witch – "

Dudley shifted uncomfortably, clearing his throat. Emily glanced nervously at the children, who were playing on the far side of the Christmas tree.

"She meant that metaphorically," said Harry quickly.

"I meant that metaphorically," agreed Ginny.

"So, this Rita Skeeter's a paparazzo?" said Emily.

"Yes, exactly," said Ginny. "Worse still, she's an Animagus, which makes it really hard to know if she isn't hiding in your kitchen or something."

"Animagus?" asked Dudley curiously.

Ginny opened her mouth, then closed it again. "Um, Harry?" she said rather faintly.

Harry smiled weakly. "It means someone who, er, can turn into an animal. Or in this case, an insect."

Emily's eyes widened, but Harry saw a tiny gleam of interest before she glanced again at the children.

"Sorry," said Ginny. Harry felt her shift uncomfortably. He knew how hard it was for her to remember that things they took for granted were newsworthy events in the Muggle world.

"That's all right," said Dudley. "Um. She still hounds you, does she?"

"Occasionally. We've had to, er, step up security around the house, especially after the last time."

"What happened?"

"Lily screamed a lot when we showed her that the special talking bug she'd brought home was a horrible wi – woman," said Ginny regretfully. "She doesn't quite trust any insect now, and she used to love them."

"My children love staying indoors," said Emily a bit wistfully. "I wish they'd go out and play in the garden more often, but they love the television."

"They'll probably grow out of it soon," said Ginny.

_I don't think their father has, so I wouldn't hold out much hope_, thought Harry.

"But all's well, isn't it?" said Dudley a trifle anxiously. "There's no new war or anything? I saw on the news the other day that a bunch of people had died in a house near Smeltings Academy – they said it looked like a gas leak, but I thought it might have been one of your lot – Henry's due to start there next year …"

"That –" Harry frowned, looking to Ginny. "I hadn't heard anything about that. Did your dad mention anything?"

Ginny shook her head. "It's probably a real gas leak. _Our lot_ doesn't get everywhere, you know."

"Oh, of course," said Dudley quickly. "Sorry."

"Don't worry about it. I imagine it's a bit stressful to have a whole world out there that you don't know about."

"Rather," said Emily. "When Dudley first told me about it, I thought he'd had a bit too much to drink."

"Well …" said Dudley, shrugging. "If I'd been of age when I found out, I might have grown up an alcoholic."

The others laughed.

"Freaked me out too," said Harry, still laughing. "You're out in the middle of nowhere, and a half-giant breaks down the door and says he's come for you…"

Dudley turned slightly red. "Yeah, I remember that."

"Yeah, and he – oh, right." Belatedly, Harry remembered that that encounter hadn't exactly turned out well for his cousin. "Sorry."

An awkward silence fell. Dudley shifted uncomfortably.

"Is that a new picture?" asked Ginny desperately, pointing at a portrait of Henry and Susan over the mantelpiece.

"Er, no," said Dudley.

"Oh yeah," said Ginny.

More silence.

"Shall we have dinner?" said Emily.

"That'd be lovely!" said Ginny in relief. "Anything I can do to help?"

"Everything's pretty much ready, all I have to do is …"

Sudden shrieks burst out from the corner of the living room where the children were playing. The four parents leapt to their feet. James's hollers were particularly loud.

"What's happened?" cried Emily as they all rushed over.

"James?" shouted Harry.

"They're alive!" screamed Susan. "Mum, they're alive they're alive they're alive!"

"Dad, make it stop!" howled James.

The sight that met the adults' astounded eyes was one of utter confusion. James was running around the Christmas tree. A bunch of miniature toy soldiers were chasing after James, ramming their tiny bayonets into his ankles, and his yells punctuated every successful hit. Susan was crying, Albus was trying to kick them away from James, and Lily was shrieking and throwing pillows at them from the safety of a small sofa. And Henry … Henry was staring at the soldiers, his eyes huge.

"_Finite Incantatem!_" cried Ginny, her wand out.

The soldiers froze immediately. James leapt into Harry's arms, still yelling in pain, tears streaming down his face. Lily ran to Ginny, Susan to Dudley. Albus and Henry stayed where they were, staring nervously at the soldiers.

"What's the meaning of this?" demanded Dudley, one arm around his crying daughter. He swung to Harry. "Look, I – Harry, I won't have this, I said I didn't want – "

"Wait, honey," said Emily. "James was the one who got hurt after all."

"Give us a moment," said Harry. "Kids, what happened?"

"James was being a prat," said Susan instantly.

"Was not," said James, his hackles up and his tears immediately forgotten. Harry set him down.

"Yes you were!"

"No I wasn't!"

"You were!"

"He was not!" chimed in Lily, glaring at her cousin.

"Yes he was," said Albus unexpectedly.

"Enough, children." said Ginny sharply. "Susan, what was James doing?"

"He kept saying our toys weren't cool, and he had toys that could fly by themselves, and he could fly too…"

"Well it's _true_…" muttered James.

"And then Henry got angry, and then the toy soldiers came alive…" Susan shuddered and pressed closer to her father.

Harry and Ginny glanced at each other for a long moment. Then they turned to Henry.

Only then did Henry look up from the soldiers. "I didn't do anything," he said aggressively, but the adults caught the fear in his voice. "They're – nobody can do that, I didn't do anything!"

"It's okay, Henry," said Ginny gently.

"No it's not! How can toys move by themselves? They're toys!" Henry's voice went higher and higher. "There's no batteries in them!"

Harry looked over to Dudley and Emily. They were staring open-mouthed at their son.

"Looks like we need to have a talk," said Harry.

Dudley tried to speak, but had to clear his throat first. "How's this possible?"

"It happens," said Ginny.

"We're related, after all," added Harry.

"Does this – does this mean – " stuttered Emily.

"I think so," said Harry.

"What?" said Henry loudly. "What? Is something wrong with me? There's nothing wrong with me!"

Harry looked at Dudley and Emily. There was shock, but no horror, and in Emily's face he thought he could see the beginnings of excitement.

"Henry," said Harry, starting to smile, "there are some things you need to know…"


End file.
